Kandinsky: the chicken not the artist

My senior year of high school I took an anatomy class. One of the projects was watching baby chickens hatch and then hop around. I am not really sure what the lesson of this was supposed to be. Nevertheless, it was a fun project and an experience I remember well. Of course I named my chick and I didn't pick a common name but a profound and ostentatious one - Wassily Kandinsky after the famous abstract artist. Instead of having a study hall, I was a TA for the librarian which was also the school computer lab. Wassily, the chicken, went with me to the library. My chick was the best of all the chicks. Yes all chicks chirped but mine chirped in the must intellectual way. I wanted great things for my little chick. I didn't want to think of it being fattened up in some dark small cage just to be eaten. My Kandinsky was destined for greater things than that. I feared for him (now to think of it I am not even sure if it was a him). When his soft yellow fuzz gave way to a few feathers I knew the time was coming when he and all the others would have to go.

My anatomy teacher, Mrs. Vogt, was a kind soul. She knew someone who would take the chicks. I think she let me believe that this "farm" Wassily was going to was a good place; filled with open fields and running streams, where feed was plenty and all were friendly. At 17 years old I was still allowed a little naivety. Now I know that when someone older tells you that a beloved pet has gone to "live on a farm" what they really mean is that they've been "hit by a car".

Why am I thinking of this today? Because I know the truth about myself. If the only way I would be able to enjoy eating chicken again was if I killed it myself, I would probably never eat a chicken again. I'm pretty sure about that, 99% sure. I am not 100% sure because one never knows what will happen. I know that farmers slaughter the animals on their farm; it's the cycle of life, this years cow is next years pot roast and so on and so on. I begrudge farmers nothing; animal torturing slaughterhouses are another story. I remember watching an HBO movie about an autistic genius, Temple Grandin, who developed a humane way of treating cattle. It really made me think. We should not only care how we prepare meat for cooking but also care how that "meat" (animal) was treated while it was alive. After all this animal gave up its life so that our life could go on, we should respect that.

Gravitation - Wassily Kandinsky

I have no current plans to become a vegan or a vegetarian but I say to those who are "More power to you!" I respect what you are doing and the reasons why you do it. It must take great dedication, expense and sacrifice to live the vegan life. I admire it, I just have no desire to emulate it. I'm still on the fence about whether that makes me a hypocrite or not.... I read this a few months ago and it has stuck with me ever since. It is from the book of Jonah: "the LORD said,...should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?” Funny huh? God could have left it at mentioning the people who need saving but he mentions the animals too... God's concerned with the small sparrow and chickens named Kandinsky.